


Forbidden Knowledge

by bioticbootyshaker



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 18:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3820903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioticbootyshaker/pseuds/bioticbootyshaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hoping to find something valuable, Dorian drags Cullen with him to the catacombs under Minrathous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forbidden Knowledge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yarnandtea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yarnandtea/gifts).



“I’m not sure if we should be here.”

His voice echoed through the chamber, bouncing off of the cold stone walls. Dorian might have taken the words with a bit more weight and gravity if Cullen hadn’t spoken them a million times since descending into the ancient catacombs. As it stood, the most he did was grunt softly as he walked past the burial grounds of ancient magisters and archons and the elite of the elite. Perhaps there was a part of him that agreed with Cullen, that they shouldn’t have come, that sifting through the bones of his ancestors was at the most immoral and at the least incredibly disrespectful. 

But the stories had been alluring, speaking of treasure, of knowledge long forgotten. Dorian prided himself on being a very pragmatic and sensible man -- but when it came to the macabre, the unknown, the _forgotten_ , he had trouble resisting temptation.

Curiosity, he knew, was a dangerous thing. And especially when it was a curious _Tevinter_ , rummaging through things better left lost to the ages. It was through the curiosity and fascination of his ancestors that the Blights had started, after all. 

Dorian didn’t see the harm in exploring, just a little...

Cullen, meanwhile, fretted and fussed behind him. Even still, he kept his shield arm raised and his sword ready. He was equal parts mother hen and protective lion, and Dorian couldn’t help but love him a little more for the duality of his nature. 

“Honestly, I’ve never known a lion to whimper and whine so much,” Dorian teased, as they moved deeper into the tombs. “You’d think by now you would have a bit of a backb---” His words were cut off abruptly as he tripped over something and went crashing towards the floor, saved a nasty fall only by Cullen quickly grabbing hold of his arm and hauling him back. His sword clattered to the floor, but Dorian, thankfully, remained undamaged. 

Cullen stooped to retrieve his blade while Dorian moved the orb of light shining from his palm back towards where he’d tripped. A skull grinned back at him, and he shuddered, taking a reactive step back and bumping into Cullen. 

With his sword sheathed, he gripped Dorian’s shoulder with his free hand, leaning down close to his ear. “What happened to having a bit of backbone?” He teased, smiling when Dorian flushed and turned on his heel to walk further into the tombs. 

“What exactly are we looking for?” Cullen asked. “It seems like a lot of trouble to go to just for a _book_.”

“ _Just_ a book,” Dorian scoffed. “Darling, please put aside your Southern barbarism for a moment.”

“Fereldans _do_ read, Dorian,” Cullen argued. 

“Oh, of course,” Dorian taunted. “How silly of me to forget.”

Their steps echoed as loudly as their voices, and with each step they took, apprehension filled the pit of Dorian’s stomach. How deep were they? How far had they come? What would happen if they were injured and no one found them? Would someone come through, years and years later, as he and Cullen did now, and kick around their bones?

He almost stopped and turned back, almost whispered to Cullen that he was afraid and he didn’t want to be here, far beneath the streets of Minrathous where no one could hear them scream if they needed help. before his eyes found the altar not more than twenty feet before them. 

Dorian moved towards it, shrugging off Cullen’s hand when he took hold of him and tried to caution him. His heart was beating hard, slow, like a drumbeat he could feel at the pulse in his wrist and throat. 

Surely looters had come this way before them. Surely they had pilfered everything of value, both financial and academic. He was wasting their time, most likely, leading them through a place of dust and death and danger for nothing more than a crumpled scroll that would earn them a silver or two. 

Still, Dorian pressed forward, with Cullen following close beside him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Cullen’s hand move to his hip, fingers readied over the hilt of his sword. 

_Good_ , Dorian thought, though he wasn’t sure _why_. 

The altar was crumbling, dilapidated, as broken as the rest of the catacombs. At first, he saw nothing of interest, waving his hand and the blue light cradled in his palm over the surface a few times. And then he saw the words etched into the face of the altar, his fingertips rubbing over the indentations as he read the ancient word.

“Somnoborium,” Dorian whispered.

“What?” Cullen asked.

“Vessels of Dreams,” Dorian said. “I wonder if there’s something here we’re missi---”

As his hand swept under the altar, there was a very loud click! and the sound of heavy, shifting stone. Dorian stepped back from the altar and watched as it descended into the ground, revealing a staircase that went Maker only knew how much deeper beneath the earth.

Again, he was nearly ready to turn around and be done with the place. How many secrets did this place hold? If they descended, how would they find their way back? Did it become labyrinth beneath, with no hope of escape?

Was whatever they might find down there worth the risk he was placing them in? If he’d been alone, he might not have hesitated as long as he did. The last thing he wanted to do was to drag Cullen after him to his death. 

“Ready?” Dorian asked, keeping his light spell raised as he took the first step down the stairs and looked back at Cullen over his shoulder. 

“ _Festis bei umo canavarum_ ,” Cullen muttered, drawing his sword and stepping around Dorian to take the lead down the stairs.

“Ugh,” Dorian complained. “Your accent is atrocious.”

He desperately hoped Cullen wasn’t right.

****

“It wasn’t so bad,” Dorian said, when they were safely back in their room with their finds spread across the table and their wounds more or less healed or on the mend. Honestly, a few scratches and bruised bones was almost a vacation considering what they had become used to while with the Inquisition. Still, Cullen grumbled as he chewed on some elfroot from their pack and glowered at Dorian from the corner. 

“It wasn’t,” Dorian insisted. “You’re getting soft, my dear.”

“There were walking corpses,” Cullen said.

“Only a handful,” Dorian scoffed. “We handled them well enough. Aren’t you glad I was with you?”

“I wouldn’t have been down there if you hadn’t dragged me with you,” Cullen blustered, but his irritation was quickly replaced with curiosity when Dorian ignored him and began sorting through what they’d found in the lower tombs. 

With only a little hesitation, Cullen neared where he sat and leaned over him, reaching for a jeweled dagger they had pried from the ribs of some unfortunate pile of bones. “This looks valuable,” he said. “I suppose it wasn’t a total waste.”

Fereldans were so predictable. They had the business sense of magpies, drawn only to glitter and sparkle. Dorian knew that true value was in knowledge. 

“There is knowledge here that has been lost for five ages,” Dorian said. “And all you want to do is fondle jewels.”

“I do love fondling your jewels,” Cullen teased, kissing softly at his ear.

_Ugh_ , Fereldans were so literal.

Maker bless them.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for yarnandtea! 
> 
> She wanted Dorian as an Indiana Jones type, and of course I couldn't resist having Cullen tag along and get into trouble with him!


End file.
